


A Seeress and a Seven Year Old

by SusanaR



Series: Desperate Hours Alternative Universe G version (DH AU G) [40]
Category: The Lord of the Rings (Movies), The Lord of the Rings - All Media Types, The Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Gen, Magic, Magic-Users, Seer, Sorceresses, Witches
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-16
Updated: 2015-04-16
Packaged: 2018-03-23 05:43:09
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,465
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3756607
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SusanaR/pseuds/SusanaR
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Finduilas asks for Galadriel's aid, and shares a truth - sometimes you have to give up great power to win, even though it is counter-intuitive.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Seeress and a Seven Year Old

**Author's Note:**

> Quotes: 
> 
> "Does the prophet see the future or does he see a line of weakness, a fault or cleavage that he may shatter with words or decisions as a diamond-cutter shatters his gem with a blow of a knife?" ~ Frank Herbert in Dune
> 
> "Time is not a line but a dimension, like the dimensions of space." - Margaret Atwood
> 
> "It is at night that faith in light is admirable." ~ Edmond Rostand

Twilight was a strange time; neither day nor night. The stars and the sun were both shy, but there was light enough to see her mirror by. Galadriel had meant to scry, until the sun's last rays conceded to the glittering stars. Yet something had summoned her....away from her mirror, and near to one of the paths that led to the borders of her lands. Her seer-son was still missing, on some errand for Mithrandir, yet her grandson Elladan had returned, with a companion. 

The wind moved through the mallorn trees, bringing whispers of things which had been, things which were, and things which might someday come to be. And the faint smell of vanilla and the sea....

A small child followed in the wake of the breeze, her delicate hand clasped in Elladan's broad, calloused palm. Her hair flowed loose, save for two braids pulled back, elven style. She wore a forest-green kirtle and cloak over a light blue shift, but it was her eyes which captured Galadriel's attention. Gray-green, like Orophin's. Like the eyes of his aunt, Mithrellas, and her daughter, Gilmith. The girl had red-gold hair, many shades lighter than Mithrellas', but....there was something about the face. Elven blood had a way of lingering on down through the generations. 

Elladan began to speak, but a mere twitch of Galadriel's fingertips stopped him. She knew, now, that this was the Prince Adrahil's daughter, but little more. Which in and of itself was interesting. 

*Who are you?* She asked the girl, in silent words which few elves could understand, let alone a human child. 

The girl smiled, happy and shy and bold, all at the once. *I am who and what you suspect that I am. Her line bore what you came to suspect, and it bloomed full grown in me. I do not know why.*

Galadriel considered that, thinking of Nimrodel and her visions, and Nimrodel's fears which had sent the elves to Belfalas, to befriend this child's daring long-father and leave their mark upon the shores. Imrazor and Mithrellas' heirs had been quite fertile, some of them. Mithrandir had been marrying cousin-to-cousin in Dol Amroth and the falas for over three hundred years, perhaps hoping for an outcome like this. A calculated risk; the last such human seer from this line had been near insane. 

*Why are you here, child?* Galadriel asked. 

The girl tilted her head inquisitively, as if not quite sure how to explain. *I was born so reflective that I was almost fragmented,* she began, showing Galadriel images of crystalline pitchers and rainbow prisms, *Never whole but still beautiful. You were born whole and then broken, bright Lady, but you didn't let the breaking end you. It should have. In some timelines, it did.* 

Galadriel was still silent, but the winds whispered around her. *What do you want of me, Finduilas of Dol Amroth?* 

The girl squared her shoulders, certain now, *I want you to help me do to my mind what horror did to yours, only different. I want you to help me close doors in my mind, where terror opened them in yours. You are the only one who can help me. You were a window, but became a door. I am a door, I must become only a window in a wall.* 

It was an odd request. The opposite of what Mithrandir had hoped for, but Galadriel was not Mithrandir. 

*Do you know what it is that you ask for?* She interrogated sternly, for this was not a decision to be made lightly, perhaps not even one a child should make at all. But it was Finduilas' own mind; if she had not the right, then who did? Prophecy and visions such as hers were no easy burden. 

Finduilas nodded, *I know that I need to become less of what I am, and more a human woman. I must bear children. Middle Earth does not need me as a great seer; it needs my sons for their swords and their hearts.*

It was a good reason, a noble reason, but still....the child must understand. *People would sell their souls for your gift.* 

The little girl tilted her chin, stubbornly determined. *I would sell my soul that we might have a better chance at a future. If the price was right.*

*Very well. I can help you to do what you ask. But I must warn you, you may never see as clearly again. It will be like going half-blind, for you.*

*So be it,* said the child, and so they began. 

The preparations took a week. First meditation, and then Galadriel combing through Finduilas' mind, noting where and what must be smoothed over, drawn back together. Knitted and heated until it was whole, not fragmented. Walls where once there had been doors, with only windows open to the future. 

*You can still turn back.* Galadriel reminded the little girl, as she tucked her into bed for the last night before they took the irrevocable step. 

Finduilas' pretty little face was uncertain, but only for a moment. Then she gathered her resolve, and said that she would continue. 

Galadriel had trouble falling asleep that night. What Finduilas asked would hurt, there was no way to avoid it, and it would be a loss. Galadriel did not know if she had the right, or if it was the right thing to do. When she moved onto the path of dreams at last, she heard a woman's voice speaking to her, light and sweet. A hand took Galadriel's hand, the fingers lightly smudged by ink, and drew her to a room in a tower. A fire burned, and lanterns gleamed. Three books were open on a table, and the grown Finduilas of Dol Amroth, gray-green eyes sparkling with wit and warmth. 

"It has been a long time, Bright Lady." Finduilas said, her sweet child's grin blossomed into a woman's gracious smile. 

Galadriel was shaken. This was not how seeing the future worked. The visions one saw did not reach out and try to communicate with the viewer - only Sauron tried that. And, from the friendly impish smile on this woman's face at Galadriel's surprise, this was NOT Sauron. 

Finduilas laughed lightly, "You worry too much about the rules, Great Lady. Understandable, I suppose. I don't know them all, so I've no reason to play by them. Probably I wouldn't, even if I did. Rules are just guidelines, sometimes other things are more important. Like having the opportunity to tell you this. That I do not regret the choice you are about to let me make. NONE of it. Even with my sacrifice, probably it will all end badly. Probably my sons and your sons and grandsons will die, and everything will drown in darkness and blood, all that still live mere slaves to Sauron. But, several decades in the future from making my choice with your aid, I still believe there is a slim chance that it won't. And I will live in that chance, and do what I can to make it happen. And I will remember that unexpected strategies, great sacrifices, unprecedented bravery, may yet win the day, and rewards undreamed of. The dark one does not understand friendship, or giving up one's own advantages in the service of something greater. And while I can, I will dance in the sun light, and sing under the moon, and teach my sons to see life's beauty, that they may endure through the darkness." 

Hearing that, in a place out of time, gave Galadriel renewed hope. The next day she helped Finduilas to close the doors in her mind and leave but mere windows, and then bid the little girl a fond farewell when Elladan returned to reclaim her. 

Finduilas paused and turned back, one little hand pushing the hood of her cloak back down. "Lady Galadriel,"

"Princess Finduilas." Galadriel said with a grave nod, inviting the girl to continue. 

"Give them everything you've got, when the time comes. Even if your place is not in the front lines, nor your warriors, there may be a role for you to play. Do not stint." 

"I will not." Galadriel promised this strange human child.

"And, remember that great and unprecedented acts, and friendships, may yield unprecedented rewards."

"What do you mean, child?"

Finduilas smiled. "I've no idea. I often don't, and even less now that I am diminished. But it may make sense, in time. Not in my time, I don't think, which may be short. But in yours."

Galadriel nodded gravely. As Finduilas walked away hand-in-hand with her grandson, she touched the girl's mind gently. 

*Fare thee well, Finduilas of Dol Amroth.*

The child turned her head, smiled, and said, *Guard Middle Earth well, Great Lady.*

**Author's Note:**

> The terrible events which happened to Galadriel as a child are explained in "Not a Single Hair," link below. Please check the warnings before reading. 
> 
> http://archiveofourown.org/works/225657


End file.
